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“Wait, Oakley,” I practically beg, tightening my hold when she attempts to pull away. And I never beg.
She freezes. “What are you doing, Sam?”
“I’ve missed you,” I confess.
She won’t look at me. I can feel her confusion like a living, breathing being. A million emotions pass across her face, but none of them hold indifference.
“Since when?” she challenges.
“Since you walked away from me,” I counter, my voice firm and sure. I’ll be certain enough for both of us that we’re meant to be together until she’s had time to catch up.
She pulls out of my grasp as we face each other. She’s trembling. “That’s funny … I seem to remember you being the one to walk away.”
These are details I don’t want her to focus on right now.
“And I’ve regretted it every day since,” I admit.
She scoffs. “When was it you missed me, Sam?” Her tone is angry. “Was it when you were hooking up with every puck bunny on campus? The redhead? Because I don’t recall you acting all that broken up over us.”
I hold my expression steady even though it’s a gut punch when she throws my indiscretions in my face. I wasn’t exactly hiding my conquests from her. And I shouldn’t be surprised by the fight in Oakley. Determination and fire are two of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. That, and the way she always looked at me.
I sigh, knowing I can’t dispute what she’s saying. But things are changing now. I’m changing them. I just need to convince her. I slide my fingers down her silky skin until I capture her hand once again.
“I made a mistake,” I say honestly. It didn’t feel like a mistake at the time, but it does now.
“You’ve made a lot of mistakes,” she replies with apparent hurt.
I grip her chin, quietly begging her to forgive me. To want me again. I slide my palm along her cheek. “I was an idiot.”
She’s silent as her mind churns. There’s a furrow between her brows that I’m desperate to wipe away. Her lips are full and turned into a slight pout as she dissects my apology and searches my eyes for the truth. Once my attention is on her mouth, I can’t pull it away. I want to touch her, taste her again.
I’m moving before my brain has a chance to catch up to my actions or before I’ve considered that this might be a bad move. I kiss her, conjuring up images of the million times I’ve taken her mouth before. She tastes like nostalgia, only better.
Oakley’s hands land on my chest. I’m not sure if she’s about to pull me closer or push me away, but the back door crashing against the side of the house interrupts us before I can find out. We pull apart as my eyes whip to the side to see Chase standing there. There’s a scowl on his face, and his cheeks are red with rage. His hands are fisted at his sides, and his nostrils are flaring. If I was unsure of his feelings for my ex before, I’m crystal clear on them now, though his hostility is one hundred percent centered on me.
“First chance you get, huh?” Chase spits out while staring me down. His words are low and simmering with unrestrained anger. “As soon as my back is turned, you make your move.”
I warned him I would. But he’s forgotten that he betrayed me first. I guess it’s time that I remind him.
“I could say the same to you.” My tone matches his. I won’t back down. This standoff between Chase and me has been brewing for some time now, like a storm building in the distance. He’s trying to take what’s mine. No one takes what’s mine. “I told you I wasn’t gonna let you have her.”
“Excuse me,” Oakley says indignantly.
“And I told you,” Chase counters as he moves closer, “that it’s not up to you. She isn’t yours. She never was.”
So, whose is she then? Yours? Fuck that.
A beat passes as we stare each other down, then another. I see his fist coming, but I don’t duck, allowing him to connect with my mouth. My lip splits, the metallic tang of blood landing on my tongue. I spit red-tinged saliva off the side of the porch and smirk. This is what I’ve been waiting for. A reason to fight back.
Blood surges through my veins. My knuckles crack when my fist connects with Chase’s cheek. It’s satisfying to see his head whip to the side from the force. I’m cocking back to strike again when Mike practically tackles me. Ollie—Oakley’s brother—wraps Chase up at the same time. I was so focused on my rage and the adversary standing in front of me that I didn’t see the others coming. I’m breathing hard from animosity and wrath as McMann wedges his large body between us.
“What the fuck are you guys doing?” the goalie accuses. “We’ve got a game tomorrow. Don’t you want to play in the Frozen Four?” He shakes his head in disgust. “And you two choose now to go after each other?”
Chase ignores everyone, spinning around and barreling through the back door without a word. Oakley rushes after him. I shrug out of Mike’s hold and hurry after her, determination still pulsing through my veins.
I pause on the porch to see Oakley pleading with Chase in the front yard, but they’re standing close and speaking quietly so I can’t hear what they’re saying. The sight of her entangled with my roommate, my teammate, my brother … is like a knife to the chest. It’s obvious there’s something between them. Something deeper than a simple crush or a brief fling. The betrayal tastes bitter on my tongue. One of my best friends and my girl.
I barrel down the steps and grab Oakley’s arm as Chase turns to leave. I watch him moving farther away from the corner of my eye as Oakley shakes free of my hold before turning to face me.
